


Middle English

by dani_the_girl



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-17
Updated: 2009-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-08 14:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dani_the_girl/pseuds/dani_the_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the good words come from Middle English, according to Daniel.  Jack/Daniel established relationship any time you think that would be appropriate without too much angst (i.e. not mid season 4, for example).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Middle English

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I am once more indebted to [](http://princessofgeeks.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**princessofgeeks**](http://princessofgeeks.dreamwidth.org/) for her sterling beta services - you have her to thank for the fact that there's not a dozen unattributed "him"s in this :) I am also (always and forever) indebted to [](http://synecdochic.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**synecdochic**](http://synecdochic.dreamwidth.org/), without whose [Eurydice, After](http://synecdochic.dreamwidth.org/63610.html), this would not exist. If you haven't read that one, go do that first - it's better. In my conscious, I decided I should have a try at (a) writing some est. rel. and (b) not wussing out when it gets to the porn stage for a change. My subconscious, however, fastened like a limpet onto the fact that when I re-read Eurydice, After I thought "I will never be able to do Daniel POV that good. I am scared to try." My subconscious doesn't like me to be scared of things. Hence it decided that I should try and refused to let me alone until I did. I was right, it's not _that_ good, but I like to think of it as a spirited attempt :) Apparently, this is "step out of my comfort zone" month for writing.

Daniel pauses, catching his breath, enjoying the sight of Jack sprawled out beneath him. From Middle English, via the Old English sprēawlian, to writhe, he thinks distractedly, which is also appropriate. And trace back along the pathways which words have worn like water, a Greek root which is suffixed to become sperm, something which is scattered. He reaches out to stroke his hand down Jack's back, Jack who is well beyond words now, communicating in sibilants and breaths and phonemes which do not blend but together form a language none the less, like speaking in tongues. Jack arcs up into the touch, wordlessly demanding and Daniel leans down over him, using his weight to press Jack into the mattress as he reaches out to the night-stand to grab the bottle of lube sitting un-capped and ready.

Daniel lifts himself back up again, balanced, but Jack's head stays down, pressed into the bed in the triangle of his arms. The weight rests on his forearms and elbows, leaving a hot dark space of air and lust for him to breathe. His legs are splayed wide to accommodate Daniel, kneeling, between them. More Middle English, Daniel thinks as he warms the lube in his hand before starting to stroke it oh so gently around Jack's entrance. Middle English, which brings words together from all over, turning the disparate sterile roots into something alive and powerful, words with force and effect. Like fist, he thinks, turning them over in his mind, and fingers and fuck. As he pushes a finger slowly inside, Jack lets out a breath, an elongated "o" sound, perhaps the central vowels of "good" without any of the consonants to give it shape, Daniel speculates. He slides his finger around inside Jack, feeling the tight heat before he pulls out to add some more lube.

He adds a second finger, which elicits a half growl from Jack, satisfaction and lust vocalised. He curls his fingers gently, stroking, beckoning from inside Jack's skin. With his other hand, he's trailing his fingers down Jack's leg, feeling the tight muscles, the tendons connecting leg and knee. He tugs slightly and Jack responds, pulling the leg up to tuck underneath his body. It pushes his hips up and spreads his ass a little more, beautiful and damp with sweat and Daniel's spit from earlier and the lube. Daniel straightens out his fingers again, stretching inside Jack, reaching as far in as he can as Jack pushes back.

Slow, he decides, pulling out his fingers and gently stroking his cock, transferring the hot slickness onto his own skin. Deliberate, a conjunction weighed and considered, balancing desire and sensation. Jack hisses as Daniel pushes inside, savouring the tight band of Jack's asshole simultaneously opening for him and gripping him, pulling him in.

He grips Jack's hips as he seats himself, feels Jack's pulse thrumming through his body, Jack's hips pushing back towards him, swallowing him. He leans forward, over, shifting inside and changing the angle. Jack raises his head, letting out an attenuated gasp, and begins to rock underneath him, small thrusts, impatient, and Daniel decides that perhaps he has teased enough, that the balance now is ready to tip over towards pure sensation, friction and sweat. He reaches around with one hand to make a loose fist over Jack's cock, so that the movements above are counterpointed by those below, matching, reversing, intensifying Jack's rhythm with his own. He can feel the intensity start to build in his gut, his balls slapping against Jack's ass as he moves in and out of him. Fuck has a quality of onomatopoeia, he thinks to himself. He feels balanced again, wanting to stay here, to preserve this feeling, this intensity, and at the same time, feeling the pressure, the need to move forward, to complete, to fill up and overflow. He lets it carry him, surging onward until there are no more words, nothing put movement and sensation and the pure silent intensity of coming, extending so far into Jack that he is for a moment not within himself at all.

As his awareness returns, he realises that Jack is still moving beneath him, and his hand, tight around Jack's cock, reflexively starts to move again, his attention no longer split or distracted. He is still half hard, the sight of Jack's abandon, Jack beneath him, still exerting its force. He feels Jack start to lose his control; the rhythm falters and Daniel catches it, pushing on, his cock twitching slightly inside Jack as Jack climaxes over his hand with a groan and collapses onto the mattress.

For a few moments, they simply remain, a still life. They are completed, Daniel thinks, with no need for further movement, no other destinations in mind. Such a state of grace cannot be preserved, though, now that they are no longer moving, and the cool of the room begins to penetrate. Daniel withdraws carefully and rolls off Jack onto the bed. He hooks the duvet with a foot and draws it up to cover over them. Jack grunts in inarticulate appreciation and rolls over, gathering Daniel in. Daniel lies, feeling boneless and sated, savouring the peace that comes after, thinking about lubh and lufe as he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
